alexiroflife · 4 months ago
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"first day"
fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off
Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door
to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of
WC: 1,701
Warning(s): none
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"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.
His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"
"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."
"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.
"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."
"Not at all, actually," you agree.
Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"
"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."
"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.
"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.
"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."
"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.
"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."
"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."
"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.
"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."
Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.
"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"
"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."
"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"
"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."
"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.
"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.
"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.
"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.
"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.
"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.
"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."
"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."
"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."
Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"
"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."
The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."
"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."
Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.
"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."
The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"
"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."
"But-"
"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.
"Yes, ma'am."
Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"
"We done, now?"
"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."
Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.
Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.
He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."
You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."
"I know. I will," he nods.
"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."
"I won't."
"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."
"I'll try."
You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.
"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.
"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"
"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."
"Please do."
Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."
"Don't speed, Toji."
"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.
"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.
"See ya, doll."
"Bye, mum."
The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.
You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.
You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.
Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.
"Yep."
Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.
Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."
"I'm gonna cry."
The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"
"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."
"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."
"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."
"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."
"You're being for real?"
"Of course I am."
You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."
"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"
"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."
He smirks. "Will do, doll."
6K notes · View notes
hintsofhoney · 8 months ago
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Ladies With Experience
Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”
You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 
“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”
“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.
“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 
The question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”
“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 
You shook your head. 
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 
His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 
“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“Dean, I —”
“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 
“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”
“Romantic,” you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you croaked.
“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”
“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 
“Of whatever you want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 
You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I —”
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”
Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”
“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”
He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”
“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 
“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”
“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
“Why do you know that?”
God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”
“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 
“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 
Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”
His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”
“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”
“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 
“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”
“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 
“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Telling Sammy to beat it.”
Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”
He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”
“Why not!?”
“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 
“Oh my God,” you began.
“Shut up.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”
“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 
“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 
Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 
“Ladies first.”
“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
“Promise.”
“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.
“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.
You tilted your head in question.
“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”
“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —
“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 
“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
“Like the fucking brat you are.”
You almost came from that alone. 
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 
“Do your worst.”
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”
You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”
“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”
“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”
“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”
“Put me in my place,” you repeated.
“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 
You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 
Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 
“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 
“Hold it,” he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.
“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.
“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”
You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 
“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.
“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”
“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 
“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 
“Dean,” you breathed.
“Hm?”
“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.
You decided you liked “baby” better. 
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”
You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 
“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 
“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hm. But not this time, right?”
“Y/N —” he warned.
“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.
“Color?” he questioned roughly.
“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 
“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 
“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 
“Good?” he asked.
“So fucking good.”
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 
“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 
“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —
“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 
“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
“More than,” you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —
“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”
He snorted. “They’re half right.”
“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”
You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”
“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”
“It was perfect, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”
5K notes · View notes
flowersforbucky · 4 months ago
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acquainted
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bucky barnes x reader (undercover stripper!reader x undercover bodyguard!bucky)
word count: 3.3k
warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), vaginal penetration, language, strip club setting, creepy dude being a piece of shit, violence and a brief mention of blood, protective/possessive bucky, reader is afab, no use of y/n, touch her and die trope, Bucky might have a slight lingerie kink... 18+ only!
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The pulsating fuschia and lime green strobe lights illuminating the club had been making your eyes throb for the last three hours. EDM plays so loudly that you're surprised blood doesn't trickle down from your ears. Not to mention the suffocating combination of cheap perfume, body odor, cigars, and booze that permeates the air makes your empty stomach churn.
If you never step foot into another nightclub when this is all over, you'll consider yourself lucky. Not just any nightclub - one of New Orleans’ scummiest strip clubs.
Five goddamn nights of this operation and not a lick of progress.
Your objective was simple - obtain proof that the owner was operating a sex trafficking ring out of the club, and then call for the back-up squad parked a block away. So far, you had not been able to acquire any kind of definitive proof. No hints of anything shady going on behind the scenes, and you had yet to even see the owner make an appearance at any point since the mission began.
Everything seems as above board as a strip club can be.
One last night, you compromised with Fury. One last night and if it went as the last few have, you were done, and he owes you a few days of paid leave for putting you through this.
“If you don't stop picking at your garter belt, it's not going to have any sequins left.” Bucky's low voice murmurs through the communication device placed discreetly in your left ear.
“If you don't stop watching my every movement, you’re not going to have any unbroken toes left,” you threaten lightly, taking a sip of your drink - just a Shirley Temple, to keep up appearances. “Shoes like this could do a lot of damage.” You glance down at the pointy heels of the black velvet stilettos.
“Is that not my job?” he counters. You don't have to look over at where he's standing in the corner of the room to know he's smirking. “To not take my eyes off of you?”
“Then do your job. Watch me. You don't have to make comments on my sequins to do that.”
“Alright, alright,” he concedes. “I'll be over here, admiring your sequins from afar. You won't even know I'm here.” The com line clicks off before you can retort.
Except you absolutely would know that he's here. Just as you have the previous four nights of this mission - painfully aware that he's here, tracking your every movement in the skimpiest outfits you've worn in your life, doing the most provocative dances imaginable, and flirting with men that you wouldn't touch with ten foot long poles in real life, all while he keeps to the sidelines in case something were to go wrong.
Keeps to the sidelines and just watches you. Even when one of the dancers approached him to ask if he'd be interested in a private dance once he's off the clock on the first night on the job.
Even when there's gorgeous, topless women crawling on the stage and all but humping the pole in his direct line of sight.
He isn't here to look out for them, of course. He is here solely to keep you safe if things were to go sideways. But you had assumed you would have caught him sneaking glances at the dozen other women at least once by now.
It's almost your turn to go up on stage. You've performed a solo set every night so far, and you still feel every bit as nervous as you did the first time.
You enjoy dancing, actually. In the comfort of your own room, when listening to music alone. When you go out with friends, occasionally. When you took ballet lessons as a child. This, however, was leagues out of your comfort zone.
“The creep from a couple nights ago is back,” Bucky's voice is a strained whisper in your ear.
“Gonna have to narrow it down a bit for me, Barnes. You could be referring to at least half of the men in here right now.”
“Sitting in front of the stage, to the left,” he mumbles back. “He's wearing a red wife-beater–”
“See him,” you interrupt, your eyes zeroing in on the short, stout, beady-eyed fuck who had been thrown out of the club night before last. One of the other security guards on duty chucked him out when he repeatedly got too handsy with one of the girls who had been giving him a lap dance.
“Fantastic,” you huff under your breath, as you finish touching up your lipgloss and reapplying the iridescent baby pink body glitter across your chest. “Just in time for my dance.”
You get up from your seat at the bar and adjust your lace bustier and thong as the announcer calls your stage name.
“He won't lay a finger on you,” Bucky assures you as you're walking up the steps of the platform.
There's a weak round of applause and a few whistles as you take your place on the center of the small stage. You give a vague nod in the direction of the DJ’s booth to indicate you're ready for your song to begin.
An upbeat but sensuous synth-pop song pours out of the speakers throughout the room and you begin to sway your hips.
You're hyper-aware of the fact that you can see Bucky making his way closer to you, away from his position in the back of the room. He settles when he's just a few tables behind the man in the red wife-beater.
There's an eruption of butterflies in the pit of your belly at how close he is. Each night prior to this, he has kept to lingering around the exits and the far wall towards the back of the club. Now, he's close enough that you can actually see his eyes following every languid movement that your body makes around the pole.
“Take your fucking top off!” a grating voice bellows from the audience. “We want to see your tits.”
You don't have to look to know who the voice belongs to. You decide to ignore him, hoping he would stop if you didn't give him any attention. You go to wrap your thighs around the pole again, preparing to spin–
“Did you not fucking hear me?” he shouts even louder this time, audible to everyone over the roaring music. “I said take your fucking–”
A flash of movement in your peripheral vision causes you to freeze around the pole. You turn your full attention to the ruckus, just in time to see Bucky fisting the man's greasy, shoulder length hair and pulling his head back. The music comes to an abrupt pause.
“You don't fucking talk to her like that,” Bucky snarls. “In fact, you don't talk to her at all, you don't look at her, you don't even breathe the same fucking air as her.”
The man is thrashing around, trying and failing miserably to get out of Bucky's grasp.
“Let me go you fucking–”
He doesn't get to finish his sentence before Bucky snaps the man's head forward, sending his face crashing into the granite tabletop.
The instantaneous pool of blood that contrasts so starkly against the white stone snaps you out of your fear-stricken trance.
Bucky pulls his head back up, forcing the man to look up at him.
“It's not my fault she refuses to show off those perfect–”
You all but jump off the stage - miraculously not breaking an ankle in the six inch heels - and rush over to where Bucky still has the man's hair yanked into his fist.
Just as Bucky is beginning to shove the man's head downwards again, you place both of your hands on his chest, gently but effectively shoving him backwards. He immediately releases his grip on the man as the other few security guards on duty arrive to detain the pervert.
“Hey, hey,” you place your hands on his biceps, trying to turn his attention to you and away from the man who he's still glaring after, as he's hauled off by security. “I'm fine, yeah? Everything is fine,” you try to assure him, though you're not sure your shaky voice sounds very convincing. “He's just a creepy, entitled asshole.”
Noticing that Bucky is shaking beneath your touch, you rub your hands up and down his arms in hopes of calming him down.
He finally meets your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at you as he takes a few deep breaths.
“Go get dressed,” he orders you calmly after a moment. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” You want to leave too badly to even think about objecting.
You make a beeline for the changing room, where you throw on a sweater and force your pants over your heels, not even bothering to change out of the lingerie and stilettos.
Bucky's waiting for you right outside the door as you sling your duffel bag across your shoulder.
“How mad do you think Fury will be that we are abandoning our positions?” you ask in a hushed tone as Bucky ushers you through the club, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.
“Not as mad as I am that he's had you doing this bullshit for no reason for almost a week now.”
You and Bucky exit the club as quickly as possible, ignoring the curious and confused stares of the other dancers and security guards. He guides you down the block, then through an alleyway where his motorcycle is parked in a heavy silence - other than the obnoxious clanking of your heels against the pavement.
Bucky straddles one leg over the seat of the bike, taking his place in the driver's position and then hands you the helmet.
“Wait,” you pause before putting it over your head. “I'm starving.” Your stomach growls, as if on cue. “Can we stop and get some take-out?”
He looks at you incredulously. “I just shattered that guy's nose and likely severely concussed him and then just dipped. Our cover is essentially blown, don't you think we should get back to the motel room and lay low until the morning?”
“There's a Chinese place open late just a few blocks from the motel–”
“If I say yes will you put on the helmet and get on the bike?”
Taking that as a win, you slide the helmet over your head and hop on behind him. You wrap your arms securely around his midsection in a tight hug and he takes off down Bourbon Street.
You spend the drive trying to ignore the thought that of all the times you've ridden on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, you don't remember him ever feeling so tense beneath your touch.
Half an hour later, you're lounging on the rickety motel bed, stuffing your face full of sweet and sour chicken and vegetable fried rice while Bucky fills Sam in on what happened over the phone.
He sits in one of the small chairs at the singular table in the corner of the room, his posture rigid. He answers all of Sam's questions with clipped, one-word responses as he massages his temple between his thumb and forefinger.
He hangs up the phone, refusing to meet your gaze. Instead, he pretends to be interested in the episode of Family Guy playing on the old motel TV.
“Your egg rolls are going to get soggy,” you tell him, pushing the to-go box across the mattress towards him.
“I don't have an appetite right now,” he says, picking up the box of food as he stands. You grab his bicep in your hand as he begins to walk past where you're sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” you say, stopping him. “Everything's okay. Really. Don't let that guy get to you–”
“A little late for that, don't you think?” He snaps, pulling his arm from your grasp. You sit back, too stunned by his reaction to know how to respond. You just stare after him as he crams his take-out box into the motel room's mini fridge.
“I shouldn't have reacted so harshly,” he says after a moment, still facing away from you. “I couldn't stop myself. He spoke to you that way, and I could have killed him and not thought twice about it. Probably would have if you hadn't intervened.”
He turns back to you. You're frozen in place.
“Do you know what that's like?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “To feel like you aren't in control of your own body? To be so irrationally protective of someone that you'd kill for them without a second thought?”
You feel like all air has been stripped from your lungs. He's just inches away, staring down at you from where you sit on the edge of the mattress. The way he's looking at you makes your skin feel like it's on fire.
“Because that's what you do to me. That's how you make me feel.”
Heat pools between your legs.
“Come here,” you say - it sounds more like a question than a command.
He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, and pulls you up from the mattress by the tops of your arms so that your body is flush against his.
His mouth hovers over yours - not quite making contact, though you can feel his breath fan across your skin.
He takes his flesh hand and cups the side of your face with it, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip. His metal hand wanders down your back until it reaches the curve of your ass - grasping your cheek in a firm hold and squeezing until his touch borders between pleasure and pain.
“This is what I wanted to do to you every time I saw a man so much as glance in your direction in that club,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought about bending you over the stage and making them watch me take you right then and there, but they didn't deserve to see that.”
“They aren't here to see us now,” you murmur as you bring your hand to cup the noticeable bulge of his jeans, eliciting a hiss from him. “So what are you going to do now?”
There's a dark grin spread across his face. He pushes you, softly but effectively, back down on the bed. You scout back a few inches on the mattress, and then bring one of your feet up to remove the stiletto heels that you'd completely forgotten to take off upon returning to the motel with your haul of Chinese food.
“Oh, no,” Bucky laughs lowly. “I want you to keep those on. I've grown to like those quite a bit.”
Your cheeks warm in both arousal and bashfulness. You begin to push your pants down your thighs as Bucky kneels on the ground and helps you maneuver the fabric around your shoes. The sweater that you threw over your bustier goes next.
You're left in the lingerie set that you wore at the club.
“Call me jealous,” Bucky sighs as he begins trailing sloppy kisses up the insides of your thighs. “Call me possessive, call me crazy..”
You lay back down against the scratchy comforter as Bucky gets closer and closer to where you're aching to have him the most.
“But I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me.”
He pulls the already soaked lace material of your thong to the side, exposing your cunt.
He licks up your center torturously slow, causing you to let out a sharp exhale. He repeats the motion, and then locks his lips around your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, fisting your fingers through the short brunet strands.
He eats you until you're a mewling and squirming mess beneath him.
You come hard, clenching your thighs around his head and riding his face through your orgasm.
“Stand up,” you instruct him as soon as you can think semi-clearly.
He obeys without any hesitation. The warm glow of the singular lamp in the motel room highlights the way your slick coats the lower half of his face.
You get up on your hands and knees before him and he lets out an audible groan at the sight in front of him. He bends down enough to kiss you - cupping your face in both of his hands and tipping your head up to give him a better angle to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss - the ache between your thighs reappearing already.
He removes his hands from your face, unbuttoning his pants while still kissing you.
You pull away to help free his cock from the confines of his boxers. Your mouth waters at what's directly in front of you. He's impressively long and girthy, with a thick vein running up the side.
You pump him a few times in your hand, swirling your tongue around the pre-cum dripping from his slit. He's already putty in your hands - groaning above you and placing his metal hand around the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you.
After you've run your tongue up and down his length a few times, you spit on the tip of his cock and massage it over the entirety of his shaft before taking him as far into your mouth as you can in the first go. He throws his head back, moaning your name.
You feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag before pulling back.
He curses under his breath, nudging himself slowly back towards your throat again.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises and you moan around his dick. He gradually increases the speed at which he pumps himself into your mouth, obscene noises echoing off of the thin motel room walls.
When he pulls out, you feel drool running down your neck and mascara-tinted tears leaking from your eyes.
“You're so gorgeous like this for me,” he tells you, and despite knowing that you look thoroughly fucked out, you believe him. “Will you turn around?”
You do as he asks, turning around on your hands and knees. You lower your chest down to the bed so that your ass is angled upwards.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunts under his breath. He grips your hips with both of his hands, yanking you to him. His erection juts against the cloth of your underwear.
He tugs them aside once more, giving him access to tease your slit with the head of his cock. You rock backwards, grinding against him. He brings his flesh hand around your stomach and reaches down to rub your clit as he begins to slowly fill you from behind.
He pauses for a moment once he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him before he starts fucking into you.
The combination of him slamming into you at such an intense angle and massaging you so perfectly has your climax building shamefully fast.
You grunt his name, bouncing your ass to meet his thrusts. “I'm gonna come,” you mewl, knowing he's on the verge of doing the same as his movements become uneven.
One, two, three more pumps and you can feel your pussy clenching around him as you come together.
You pull off of him, collapsing onto the bed and rolling onto your back. He crawls over you, propping himself up on his arms above you.
“You know,” he stares down at you, his eyes trailing to your breasts that are now spilling out of the black lace bustier. “As much as I hated every second of that mission, I do hope I might get to see you in some of these outfits again.”
♡♡♡♡♡
my masterlist!!!
2K notes · View notes
bittersweet-folder · 3 months ago
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♡ cafuné
(n.) running your fingers through the hair of someone you love.
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pairing : kim mingyu × fem! reader [ in an established relationship]
genre: fluff, very domestic fluff. svt. m.list
synopsis: sometimes what Mingyu really needs is good food, cuddle and kisses from you after a long exhausting day at work.
warnings: none (lots of kisses) word count: 1113 words
song rec: O by Code Kunst ft LeeHi // Hold me close by H3F
Taglist : @hongmingoo , @shuabby1994 , @unlikelysublimekryptonite , @asyre , @yumiyumis-blog , @soobunsbun , @nishloves , @aaniag , @sikuthealien , @jespecially , @lizza2001 , @zierose-freak , @thepoopdokyeomtouched , @hoshifighting (yes girly tagged you as well)
(please read the a/n! note in the end loves!)
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You take a glance at the clock. 9pm. You were cooking and waiting for Mingyu to return home. It was almost time. The sizzling sound of the vegetables frying in the pan filled the silence in the kitchen. You were making dinner late because you came back home a little late after work as well. And automatically drifted to a deep slumber as soon as your head hit the pillows. You added the rice in the stir fried vegetables. The delicious fragrance filled your senses as you stirred and mixed the rice well and then added the rest of the seasonings. "Gyu would love thiss" You said to yourself,smiling. You loved how Mingyu is a fan of whatever food you made. You loved the smile or sometimes the wide eyed expression he pulled whenever he took the first bite. He really enjoys eating food, especially home made food which is made by his one and only lovely girlfriend.
Time passed by and you stirred the rice thoroughly and then tasted it. It was delectable. That's when you heard the keys clinking followed by the door opening. 
"Baby I'm home!" The cheerful Mingyu was nowhere to be found. He sounded really exhausted instead which concerned you. 
"Welcome home Gyu! I'm in the kitchen!" you call out from the kitchen, now serving the rice on the two plates,set on the table beforehand. Mingyu appeared in the kitchen. 
"It smells soo good in here.. what are you making?" he mumbled as headed his way standing close to you in the kitchen. You made his favorite prawn fried rice. He draped himself on you like a blanket, arms around your waist, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. 
"Today was really exhausting isn't it?" you asked. 
"Yes, so so exhausting, back to back work and an important presentation. But I'm back and I want to sleep so bad" his reply was followed with a yawn. 
"But you have to eat, baby. Plus go take a quick shower, you're sweaty. The chicken will heat up in the microwave in the meantime." you said. He groaned like a little five year old kid before saying "Alright alright I'm going but can I get a kiss?"
Without any questions you pressed a soft peck on his lips. 
“One more?” he pouted. You let out a chortle. And pressed another kiss on his forehead and on his nose. He grinned and stared at you until out of the blue he attacked you with plenty of kisses all over  your face. His sweet affectionate behavior made you laugh and giggle. Once he was done he seemed like a smiley proud golden retriever after pulling back and looking at you and then he left to take a shower. 
The beep of the microwave oven reminded you of the chicken you were heating up so you took out two small bowls from the kitchen cabinet and then the chicken to serve it on the bowl. Dinner was served so you thought of scrolling through your phone a bit. Few minutes passed by, Mingyu came out of the shower and joined you for dinner. He was very sleepy now. All the little chit chats went on knowing about how each other's day went while eating dinner. The rain started pouring outside. The pitter patter of the light rain joined the conversation between you and him as pleasant background music. Not too harsh, not too slow. The kind of tranquil environment needed after a tough day. 
[..... time skip~♡]
You and Mingyu were now in the bedroom laying on the bed, cuddled up. He was nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck while his arm was around your waist. His warm breath was fanning on the skin of your neck. And above everything both of you were wide awake. Your hand was on his shoulder but then you slid it around his neck slowly running your fingers through his fluffy black hair. He quite literally melted in your touch. 
“Gyu?” you whispered. 
“Yes darling”
“You aren't sleeping. Aren't you tired baby?” Your soft voice being the only other sound beside the ceiling fan's, in the dimly lit room. 
“You know I can ask you the same question right? But I might actually fall asleep if you continued the massage” He smiled softly looking up at you. Your eyes meet his. He looked so adorable and fluffy. Hair all messy, drowsy eyes, slightly flushed cheeks. It gave you the urge to pepper kisses all over his face. Slowly you leaned your face closer to his, your soft lips pressing a delicate kiss on his forehead. Then peppering more kisses on his cheeks and nose. It made him smile automatically. Another kiss right beside his right eye. He was savoring the feeling of feather light kisses until he whispered “what's up baby?”. You stopped for a second to answer “nothing I just wanted to kiss my pretty boyfriend can't i?”.
“You're insufferable but I love you, you know that?” Mingyu had a lopsided smile dancing on his lips. Your face went closer to his, your lips ghosting over his and his eyes shutting slowly expecting to get into the fervent feeling of the tender kiss. But you stay still in that position. His eyes open. 
“So… I read this word somewhere ‘cafuné’ which means running you fingers through the hair of your loved one” you muttered, pulling away with a soft smile and continued “felt like this was the perfect opportunity to actually do it while we are still tangled in our bedsheets, on the bed like this''. Mingyu stared at you, blinking at times thinking how did he get such a sweet caring girlfriend. Your fingers picked up the motion they left for a few seconds, grazing and caressing his hair softly. 
“You talk just like a book. I don't really know how to explain this at this particular moment but you do and I absolutely love it” Mingyu spoke softly. 
“Really? Thank you, love. I think you should close your eyes and finally get some sleep as well” you said. 
“Alright my lady good night then?” 
You chuckled and then pressed a sweet tender kiss on his lips. 
“Yes, good night love. And I love you too” 
Sometimes nothing was better than Mingyu's bear hugs. He had such a big chiseled yet soft chest and arms. It was always a treat or a cure to a sad mood to hug him.
Sometimes for Mingyu your soft loving touch and affection is what he needed after an exhausting day or simply because he craved the softness of the affection you had, just for him. 
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author's note: finally posted something lol. sometimes I just really really wanna baby this man and take care of him and make him his comforting food. I have proofread it once but lemme know if there's something wrong. [Please note: the Wonwoo fic is in progress and i won't be able to finish it any sooner because of the amount of assignments I have presently, I honestly wanna ugly cry atp]. With love, Luna🎀.
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arieslost · 8 months ago
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home to you | op81
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oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.
word count: 2,978
warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst
masterlist — join my tag list here!
this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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Your sunburn is peeling.
Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.
“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.
“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”
“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”
“I know,” you reply quietly.
As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.
You think he doesn’t feel the same way.
When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.
So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.
He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.
“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.
“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”
Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”
“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”
“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”
You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”
“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.
“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”
“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”
“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.
He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.
You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”
His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”
You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”
“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”
“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.
“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”
“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.
“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Osc.”
You hang up first.
“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.
You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.
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Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.
Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.
Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.
“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.
“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”
“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.
Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??
“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”
“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.
“Always here for you, mate.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I don’t care.”
That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”
He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.
She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.
“It’s about-”
“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.
“You do?”
“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”
“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.
“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”
“It never did.”
She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”
She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.
The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.
“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”
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Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.
He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.
He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.
“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”
“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.
You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.
He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”
I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.
“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”
“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”
“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”
“Can we talk inside?”
“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.
He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”
“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”
“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”
“You didn’t, though.”
“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.
“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”
You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”
“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.
“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”
“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”
You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”
“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.
You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.
“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.
“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”
You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”
“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”
You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”
You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.
“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”
“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”
“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.
“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”
“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”
“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”
You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.
The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.
It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.
The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.
“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.
“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.
“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.
“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”
“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.
“I love you,” you whisper back.
No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.
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note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld
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fear-is-truth · 2 months ago
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slow down ── dilf! peter maximoff x f! reader
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⟡ NSFW || MINORS DNI 18+
⟡ TAGS: sexual content ・ fem!reader ・dilf!peter ・ unprotected p in v・ english is not my first language so bear with me・not proofread ・word count: 1,831
⟡ SYNOPSIS: domestic life with peter
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a/n: i just finished my assignment for criminal law & wrote this fic with the aid of monster energy. kindly ignore the atrocious writing lol
“Hey kiddo! Bedtime!” Peter called down the hallway. He waited, silence.
“You’re not in bed yet! I’m gonna have to tickle ya to sleep if ya don’t get moving!”
Still nothing—except the faint sound of a stifled giggle. Peter’s lips twitched into a smile.
Game on.
He leisurely made his way down the hall, towards the living room, passing Luna’s bedroom door without sparing a glance.
“Huh, that’s weird,” he wondered out loud, playing it up.
“Where’s my kid? I swear I had one, like, five minutes ago.”
Peter exaggerated his search, peeking behind the curtains and glancing under the furniture. More giggles, and he nearly broke character with his own grin. He then made a big show of scratching his head in faux puzzlement.
“Nope, no kid here. Oh well,” he sighed dramatically. “Hmm, could’ve sworn I heard something. Maybe it’s a mouse. Or a cookie thief…”
At that, Luna couldn’t hold it in any longer. She popped out from behind the armchair.
“Noooo! Daddy, I’m here!” she squealed, bursting into laughter. Peter spun around, feigning surprise. “There you are! Thought I’d have to call the FBI or somethin’!”
Squealing with delight, the five-year-old bolted down the hallway as fast as her little legs could carry her. Peter was on her in an instant, zooming past you with a playful wink before scooping her up into his arms, spinning her through the air.
“You’re getting too fast for me, kiddo,” he grunted, as he carried her towards her bedroom, the little girl squirming in his grasp and laughing hysterically.
You leaned against the doorway, amused by the back-and-forth that had become so routine.
“Peter, you’re supposed to be calming her down, not winding her up.”
“I’m working on it,” he called back, depositing his daughter onto her bed and tucking the blanket around her.
“Fine, but when she’s bouncing off the walls at midnight, you’re the one getting up with her.”
Peter shot you a smirk, showing that he knew exactly what he was doing. He reached down and ruffled Luna’s hair, earning another giggle from her,
“Alright, peanut. Let’s make a deal. One more story—only one—Deal?”
Luna’s eyes lit up, and she bounced in her bed. “Deal!”
“Peter,” you reminded him, stepping into the room with a raised eyebrow, “you said ‘one more story’ three stories ago. She’s going to be up all night at this rate.”
Your husband grinned innocently.
“C’mon, what’s one more story? Just gotta make sure she’s really tired.”
He turned toward the bookshelf, fingers dancing over the colorful spines.
“Which one are we reading tonight? Something super long, I bet.”
She giggled, pointing at a well-worn book. “That one, Daddy!”
He picked it up, settling onto the edge of the bed as Luna snuggled under the blankets. “Alright, one loooong story, but then it’s off to dreamland. Yeah?”
•••
After Luna was sound asleep in her bed, and you’ve done your playful striptease, it was time for you to free Peter from his jeans. In the process of removing his belt, your fingers accidentally brushed the strain in his crotch.
“Mghmm… careful there babe.”
He inhaled sharply, and you indulged in the temptation, gently rubbing him through the denim with your left hand while unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper with your right.
His body pressed against yours, and you felt the soft push as the back of your legs met the edge of the mattress. With a smirk, Peter wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You let out a delighted squeal, soft giggles filling the space between kisses as your fingers clung to his shoulders for support. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed, feeling the heat of his cock press against your abdomen.
“Please, Peter. I want you, so bad.”
And that was all your husband needed to hear. He laid you gently on the mattress before crawling forward, positioning himself to settle between your legs. Breathlessly, you gripped his shoulders and lifted your hips slightly, moving in sync with him as he lined himself up. Peter began to slowly ease himself into you, groaning into your shoulder, warm puffs of his breath tickling your skin.
He paused for a moment for you to adjust, before pushing further until he was fully sheathed inside you. The delicious stretch of your pussy was nothing short of glorious.
“Oh god… Nghmm — Peter,”
You whined, tightening your grip and leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as he started moving. He slowed down mid-thrust to mumble against your cheek,
“Love you too baby,”
Peter rested his chin on your shoulder, placing hot kisses along the column of your throat as he moved, He shifted his hips to find a better angle, and you gasped when you felt his tip nudge against your cervix. Your spine arched and your heels dug into his back as he thrust into with such force that your body slid a few inches towards the headboard, the sheets creasing around you.
“A-ahhh— fuck–”
A strained moan tumbled from his lips when he sheathed himself to the hilt. You can tell by the vein popping on Peter’s neck that he wanted to lower his head, but he was fighting every instinct to keep his eyes focused on you, chocolate irises fixated as you both begin to ascend towards the precipice.
The sight of him, biting his lips and brows furrowed in such concentration made the hot coil in your belly tighten. Supporting his weight on one elbow, Peter slipped his other hand down between your legs, and his fingers—those magical fingers started working your clit almost frantically.
“Please— ohmygod, Peter,”
you babbled, clenching your quivering thighs and throwing your head back when he bottomed out once again. His tip was pressed snugly against your cervix, and you swore you could feel him poke into your stomach, but that did nothing but stir your body into overdrive. You heels dug into his backside, anchoring him as the familiar warmth of his come spurted into your womb. Instinctively, the walls of your pussy clamped tightly around his cock, milking him dry.
“C’mon, baby,” Peter mumbled as he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the mouth, “wan’ you to cum for me, yeah? Cum all over my cock.”
The few seconds between you seemed to stretch into eternity before the coil finally snapped, waves of intense, white-hot pleasure alight your bloodstream as your pussy convulsed around his cock. You placed your palms to either side of his face, his eyes trying desperately to find a part of you to focus on.
•••
Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing a silvery glow over your bedroom as you lay tangled up in each other, legs intertwined beneath the sheets. Peter smirked lazily as he traced a finger along your arm.
“Y’know, I think ‘m finally starting to get the hang of this whole ‘normal life’ thing. Not as fast-paced as I’m used to, but it’s not so bad,”
You laughed softly, nestling your head against his bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“You? Normal life? That’s a stretch.”
“Hey, I can be normal,” he defended with a grin, though the glint in his eyes said he didn’t really mind being anything but. “I did the dishes tonight. That counts, right?”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, letting your hand rest on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You stuffed them into the dishwasher in like a nanosecond. Doesn’t really count when you’re cheating with super speed.”
Peter chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Alright, alright. But I still nailed bedtime. Got Luna to bed without any major disasters—except maybe that story where I gave the dragon a Brooklyn accent. She seemed into it.”
“She loved it,” you agreed, smiling at the memory of their earlier antics.
“You’re good with her, Peter. You’re her hero.”
“Yeah, well, she’s pretty awesome,” he shifted slightly, turning to look down at you, his silver hair tousled against the pillow.
“She’s got you to thank for that.”
You met his gaze, fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest.
“Pretty sure she gets most of that from you. The attitude, the energy. The ‘never staying still for more than a second’ thing.”
He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Gotta keep things interesting, right?”
You let out a soft hum of agreement, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you spoke. “Interesting is one way to put it.”
There was a beat of comfortable silence between you, and Peter’s arm wrapped more firmly around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, just the warmth of his skin against yours. He broke the silence with a quieter, more thoughtful tone. “You ever think about how we got here?”
“Where? In bed?”
“No, seriously,” Peter said, fingers brushing through your hair absentmindedly. “Like, the whole thing. You, me, Luna. I used to think I’d never have something like this. Y’know, slow life, family stuff. Thought I’d always be the guy on the outside, just speedin’ through life.”
You shifted slightly to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest. “What changed?”
He shrugged, his smile softening. “You. You changed everything. Made me realise I didn’t have to run away from it all the time. That maybe I could actually slow down long enough to be a part of something.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned up to kiss him softly, the gesture full of the affection you felt for him. He kissed you back with the same tenderness, his hand cupping your face gently as he deepened it, the kiss slow and sweet like molasses. When you finally pulled back, Peter’s thumb brushed across your cheek, eyes locked on yours in that concentrated, yet familiar way. “I don’t say it enough, but I’m lucky to have you. You and Luna. You guys are my world.”
You smiled, warmth spreading through you at the sincerity. “We’re lucky to have you too, Peter. Even if you’re still kind of a goof.”
He grinned, silver hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head. “Gotta keep you guys on your toes somehow.”
You laughed softly, settling back against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a peaceful quiet. His arms wrapped around you protectively, his thumb continuing to brush absentmindedly against your skin. For a while, neither of you spoke, just content to be together. But as you felt your eyes growing heavier, Peter’s voice broke the silence one last time, soft and almost sleepy. “Hey, babe,” he mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.
“Thanks for making me slow down.”
You smiled against his chest, “Thanks for sticking around.”
He chuckled, his grip tightening around you. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
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 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
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i7ghost · 2 months ago
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#study buddy — leon kennedy [M4F] 1.4k words
summary. your boyfriend helps you relax while you study
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pairing. leon kennedy + reader genre. smut, fluffy n lovey :3 tags. soft dom!leon, tit fondling, nipple play, handjob (f rec), praise, pet names, gagging? (fingers in mouth), orgasm control warnings. not proofread reader. afab, no gendered terms, no pronouns note. absolutely entirely self indulgent .. looks around
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leon's good at leaving you alone when you need it, even if he really hates having to. but it's almost 1am, and you've been studying since you got home from work. sure, he knows your finals are soon. he completely understands that you want to pass, and your professor is a total jackass who's already failed you once.
but you've been locked in your bedroom all day, head down as you work on your study guides. he's peeked in once or twice, delivering little snacks or what was left of his takeout.
he just misses you.
with a huff, he turns off the movie he'd been watching in the living room and stands up from the sofa. as he makes his way down the hall, he debates whether he should knock or not. he ultimately decides against it; knowing you, you'd just tell him you're almost done, then study for another three hours. it's happened once already.
so instead, he quietly opens the door, making sure not to be too loud. he avoids creaky spots on the hardwood, not wanting to be audible over the music playing on your headphones. you've changed out of the clothes you had on earlier from work, now wearing a tank top and sweatpants; he's glad you're at least comfy while you bury yourself in your studies.
without saying anything, he stands behind you and begins to gently massage your shoulders. your muscles are tense, and he applies pressure to those aching spots, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.
"what are you doing?" you ask quietly, your voice hoarse from being silent for so long.
"nothin'," he mumbles, continuing to knead your stiff shoulders. "just helping you relax."
you don't say anything else, just letting him do his thing. you can't deny that it feels good; your posture's been terrible all day, and you've barely moved for the last — you glance at your clock — five hours... jeez, has it really been that long?
leon gently slides his hands down your chest, slipping under your shirt and bra. he's so gentle as he squeezes your tits, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. they harden into tight little peaks, and he can't help but smile to himself.
"leon—"
"shh, baby," he murmurs. "keep studying. you're alright." he hears your breath hitch and feels your heart stutter in your chest. always so responsive.
you swallow hard, blinking a few times to try and rid your eyes of the haziness of your growing arousal. it works for the most part — until his calloused fingers pinch your nipples. he's delicate with you, knowing how sensitive you are, pinching lightly before he rubs them softly to soothe the sting.
the first one doesn't get the reaction he wants, so he leans down, letting his warm breath brush against the shell of your ear when he does it again. you finally let out a little noise, a soft whimper that he barely hears. but he does, and he loves it.
he smiles and kisses your temple, squeezing your tits again before he moves a hand down between your thighs. he traces a finger along your slit through your clothes, and he hums when he feels your cunt pulsate against his touch.
"love when i touch you, don't you, baby?" he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. you don't respond, too busy trying to keep your cool and focus on your work like he said. your silence makes him narrow his eyes, and he presses down on your clit, making your hips jerk. "i asked you a question, doll."
all you can do is nod and hum out a little "mhm." it's good enough for him, and he kisses your temple as he slips his hand into your clothes, finally making contact with your needy cunt.
you're already soaked for him — which doesn't surprise him. you've been alone all day, bored out of your mind... he's sure your thoughts have wandered to him more than once.
"so wet already," he mumbles, "need this so bad, hm?" you nod again, your legs parting. the fabric of your sweats pulls tighter against leon's hand, which is just too big to fit underneath. "take them off," he instructs.
you fumble to untie the drawstring, but your hands are too shaky to do so. he smiles a bit and unties them for you, then watches you lift up your hips and tug off your clothes. once you're naked from the waist down, he guides your knees up over the arms of your desk chair, spreading your pussy out for him.
"there we go," he purrs, sliding his middle two fingers from your entrance up to your clit, spreading your arousal over your aching nub. "so ready for me, and i've barely touched you."
"i c-can't reach the keyboard if you're touching me," you almost whine, a little pout on your face.
"shush," he whispers. he slides his free hand up to cover your mouth, squeezing your cute face gently before pushing his middle finger past your lips. "you know your safe word, doll."
you nod, your tongue cradling his finger as he thrusts it absentmindedly in and out of your mouth. his thumb brushes your cheek, a silent praise for being so obedient for him. focusing back on your cunt, he finally starts rubbing your clit.
you're so worked up already, so sensitive, that a muffled moan vibrates around his finger. he loves the way you squirm, trying to push your hips up against him, but the position you're in just won't let you move.
"l-leon" comes from your lips in the form of a whimper, stifled by his finger, but clear enough to make his cock twitch. he ignores it, focused on your pretty body as he plays with your pussy.
he circles your clit with two fingers, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. he knows exactly what pace to set, what pressure to use to get you whimpering and writhing for him.
and it doesn't take long for you to be in that state, so desperate to cum for him. but he doesn't let you, edging your pussy, loving the way he can see your hole clenching around nothing. your juices leak out of you, and he tsks.
"making a mess of my chair, baby," he says disapprovingly. he moves his fingers down and stuffs them into your pussy. a groan passes his lips as he feels how tight you are around him, the sound rumbling against your skin. "look how wet you are just from my fingers, angel. what if i used my mouth, hm?" he feels your walls squeeze his fingers, and he smirks. "ooh, you like that, don't you? want me to eat your pretty pussy?"
you whine around his fingers, your hips wiggling in a desperate attempt to force him to thrust into your cunt.
"oh, no, doll. none of that." he pulls out of you, wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh, making a sticky mess on your skin. "stay still, and you'll get your reward."
you let out a little noise of protest, so he strokes your clit with one finger, his touch feather-light.
"do you want to cum?" he asks softly.
you nod.
"then sit still."
he presses his fingers back to your aching nub, rubbing at the perfect pace to bring you to the edge — and he keeps you there, your body teetering desperately on the brink of orgasm. you want more, need more, but you stay still.
"there you go, that's it," he purrs. he takes his finger out of your mouth, and you immediately start moaning, begging for more. "tell me how bad you need it, and you can cum."
"p-please," you whimper, your voice trembling. "please, i can't take it, i can't. i need to cum, i need to, please."
"good, good.... c'mon, a little more for me, doll. let me hear you," he whispers, pinching your nipple and twisting it softly in time with his circles on your clit.
"leon," you whine. your back arches away from the chair, and he hums, as if waiting for you to finish your sentence.
"yes?"
"please—"
he applies just a bit more pressure and moves just a bit faster. he presses his cheek to your temple. "cum."
a broken moan erupts from your chest as you finally climax, your thighs shaking and your clit twitching under his fingers. you squeak out his name and a soft "thank you", and he nods a bit as he pleasures you through your peak.
as you come down, he slows his fingers to a stop, then kisses your temple. "finish your work so we can watch some movies," he says quietly before walking away, leaving you panting with a mess between your legs.
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silentcryracha · 10 months ago
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❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍
Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader
Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.
Word count : 3.2k
Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.
A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn
masterlist
ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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 When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.
'Hello?'
'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.
'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.
'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'
You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.
'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'
-
You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.
Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.
You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.
-
Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.
'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.
'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.
'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.
'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.
You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.
You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.
His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.
'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.
'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.
He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.
'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.
'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.
Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.
'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.
He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.
You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.
'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'
'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.
'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.
'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.
'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.
'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.
'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.
'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.
'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.
'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.
'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.
That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.
'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.
'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.
He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.
'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.
'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.
'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.
'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.
'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.
At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.
One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.
'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.
He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.
'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.
'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.
'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.
'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.
'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.
'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.
'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.
After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.
'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.
'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.
'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.
Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.
You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.
'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.
'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.
'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.
'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.
'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.
'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.
'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.
'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.
'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.
'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'
He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.
'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.
'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.
'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.
'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.
'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.
'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.
'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.
'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.
'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.
'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.
'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.
'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.
'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.
'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.
'You little-'
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3
2K notes · View notes
bellaxgiornata · 3 months ago
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A Favor from the Devil |Chapter One|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 2.2k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)
Summary: Between working cases at Nelson, Murdock, and Page and combating crime as Daredevil in Hell’s Kitchen at night, Matt had little time for much else. Until a new neighbor moves in across the hall and you attract his attention with your odd behavior. But when your quiet four year old doesn't just befriend the Devil–she unravels his biggest secret–Matt only grows closer and more protective of the both of you. Inevitably he learns the truth of your past, but that's not what surprises him most. It's a favor you ask of the Devil–a favor that initially leaves Matt conflicted.
a/n: This is a story I've had in my head for quite a few months now and have steadily been working on for a bit for myself, but now I've decided to share it. I've spent quite a bit of time outlining and fleshing out the story--more than I usually do. As always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana
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“And that's the end,” you said. 
Closing the book in your lap, you glanced up from the brightly colored illustrations of animals on the back cover to your daughter who sat clutching Barnabas, the stuffed teddy bear that she never went to bed without. Her eyes had grown wide and hopeful as they held your gaze–a look you'd long since become familiar with. It was the same one she always gave you when she was about to stall in an attempt to avoid her inevitable bedtime. And it often worked on you, whether she realized it or not.
“Again?” Evelyn asked softly, a little hand reaching out towards the book. “Please, mama?”
“Cricket,” you replied gently, glad to hear she was stringing more words together tonight despite the excitement of this evening's move. “I've already read it five times now. I think it's time we put it away for tonight and you get to sleep.” 
Evelyn's face fell at your answer and the sight pained you. It didn’t help that you knew just how anxious she'd been the entire weekend with all the big changes you both had going on yet again. She'd spent the past week barely saying more than a single word because of it.
“The book will still be here tomorrow,” you promised her. “We can read it again then.”
“Helps me sleep,” she whispered.
The growing frown curving her lips downwards and the little crease forming between her furrowed brows tugged at your heart. Especially with how she looked so small tucked inside the too-large sleeping bag you'd recently purchased at a thrift store. It looked as if she was being swallowed up by the giant purple thing considering she didn't even take up half the length of it. 
Sighing, you felt your resolve fading the longer she stared up at you with her pleading eyes. With everything that you'd both been through over the past few months, and how you'd already felt guilty for all of the things you'd done wrong and hadn't been able to give her–which included an actual bed to sleep in once you'd gotten this apartment–you knew you wouldn't be able to resist that look. The very least you could do was read the book to her for a sixth time.
Leaning back once more against the bedroom wall behind you, you settled in for another few minutes on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright,” you relented. “I can read it just one more time for you, cricket. But then you've got to promise me something. Can you do that?”
The expression on her face changed, her small nose slightly scrunching up as her head turned to the side. “What?” she asked.
“Promise me that you'll actually go to sleep when I'm done,” you said, reaching a hand out to lightly ruffle her hair. “Because it's late and you've got your first day of preschool in the morning. Remember?”
“Oh,” she whispered, visibly sinking lower into the sleeping bag. 
You frowned. She'd been nervous for that, too.
“Hey,” you said, your hand smoothing her hair before coming to gently rest along her shoulder. “You'll have fun there, I promise. I know it can seem scary going somewhere new, but you've been doing a great job adjusting to all the new things we've been through already. And you'll make friends, Evie. It'll be alright, I promise.”
The doleful look on her face didn't waver despite your attempt to comfort her. You hoped that beginning preschool tomorrow in conjunction with yet another move didn't set her back to nonverbal responses again. Guilt burned inside of you at the thought of how much your previous situation had led her to become so timid and quiet, afraid to use her own voice. It didn't matter that everyone at Hope Haven had tried to reassure you that none of what you'd been through was your fault, that you had done everything you could when you could. That didn't stop you from still feeling wholly responsible.
You should have seen it coming. Should have done something sooner.
But that was in the past now.
“And after work I'll pick you up and bring you back home with me,” you told her, trying to lighten her mood. “We can eat tonight's leftover pizza for dinner. And maybe I can get us some ice cream on the way home. How does that sound, cricket?”
Evelyn's hands began fidgeting with the edge of her sleeping bag, rolling it up between her small fingers. Her eyes remained downcast, avoiding yours. You knew she often fidgeted when she was anxious, a habit that just seemed wrong for a four year old to have acquired.
“Is this home?” she asked. 
The ever present guilt in your stomach burned, your chest tightening at the unexpected and loaded question. You hated that she worried about things that no four year old should be worrying about, too. Another thing that was all your fault.
Expression softening, you nodded. “Yeah, Evie,” you answered, your hand dropping down to wrap around her little one that was still fidgeting with the edge of her sleeping bag. “This is home. We're staying here. Hopefully for a long, long time.”
Glancing up at you from beneath her lashes, you could see the expression on her face had yet again changed. This time she was staring up at you with a look that you absolutely hated seeing on her little face. One full of fear and uncertainty. A particular memory flashed through your mind at the sight of it and the acid in your stomach had a wave of nausea hitting you. Eyes briefly dropping down to the scar across the back of your right hand, you tried to fight back the tremble that had begun in it.
“We're safe?” Evie asked.
Attempting to swallow down the lump that had formed in the back of your throat, you nodded. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, though it felt like your heart was shattering in that moment. Because after all, it had also been your fault that it had taken so long to get the pair of you somewhere safe.
“Yes,” you stated, your trembling hand gripping the book in your lap tighter in an attempt to calm the quivering. “We're safe here. Don't ever worry about that, alright? That's for me to worry about. And I will always make sure you're safe. You hear me? Always .”
There was a long pause before she very slowly nodded her head just once. Your left hand patted hers tenderly, sending her what was meant to be a reassuring smile. You hoped it had been, because you'd been doing your best to appear more put together than you actually felt lately. You didn't need Evie to be worrying about anything else.
“So,” you said, trying to change the topic, “I guess we should get back to finishing our bedtime story, huh?”
Evie nodded vigorously, pushing herself more upright in her sleeping bag, her expectant eyes on you. You sent her another smile before clearing your throat and focusing back down on the book in your lap. Opening it once more with your still quivering hand, you tried to push the bad memories from your mind as you began to read in an animated voice. 
It wasn't until four pages later that you'd glanced up at Evie. She had leaned over to see the pictures in the book while you read, all traces of fear gone from her face. Instead, she looked enraptured in the story that you knew she had completely memorized by now with how often you'd read it to her. There was a ghost of a smile on her face as she cuddled Barnabas tightly to her chest. And in that moment your heart felt full of hope.
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Running a hand across your forehead, you paced your way around the mostly unfurnished apartment you'd just moved into this evening. The sparseness of the place was truthfully embarrassing. Currently all you had was Evie's sleeping bag, a blanket and lumpy pillow set aside by Evie’s bedroom door which would be your bed for the foreseeable future, and the empty boxes tossed around what would someday hopefully be a living room. For now it was just a large, empty room beside the small, empty kitchen.
As you paced around another overturned, half-broken down cardboard box, your shoulders dropped. You'd managed to pack all of Evelyn's and yours’ belongings in those boxes now lying discarded on the floor. Just six boxes fit your entire life. You certainly hadn't had much when you'd grabbed Evelyn and ran those couple of months ago. Just one garbage bag filled with mostly her clothes and things with a few of yours mixed in. Though even if you'd had time to pack more, there wouldn't have been much else to bring with you because neither of you’d ever had much to begin with. 
And now here you were struggling to afford the very little you had as it was, no matter how desperately you were trying to stretch your measly new salary. It pained you to not be able to provide properly for you and your daughter. You remembered how you’d felt that very last night you'd stayed at Hope Haven, the women's shelter that you’d be forever grateful for taking the pair of you in and helping you start your new life. 
Long after Evelyn had gone to sleep on your last night there, you'd laid awake in bed crying quietly to yourself as you stared at that damn purple sleeping bag mocking you from across the room. You’d felt like a terrible mother–for more than one reason. As tears ran down your cheeks, you’d vowed to save up to buy Evie a bed, doing whatever you needed to until you could. You'd give her that at least, even if it meant skipping meals whenever you could to save the extra cash. But honestly, you found yourself already often having to skip meals just so you could afford to keep Evie fed.
Pausing in your aimless pacing, you came to a stop beside one of the large windows in the living room. Placing a hand against the cool glass, you looked outside at the city. Your eyes inevitably found their way to the massive billboard positioned on the building across the street which hung at precisely your apartment's height. But fortunately for you the eyesore was more directly across from the apartment next door to yours, making it less noticeable and disruptive from your view. Though you had no choice but to feel grateful for the hideous thing because it had been the sole reason you'd gotten such a reduced rent in the first place. Otherwise you'd never have been able to afford a place in a relatively safe area of Hell’s Kitchen.
As you blankly stared outside at the billboard, watching the advertisements change from one to the next, you hoped things would be different here. Better. Because both you and Evie needed that. Your daughter needed a stable place to live, one she felt safe coming home to for once, and you desperately wanted to provide that for her. With every fiber of your being you hoped that this place would finally become the home you'd been struggling to create since the day she was born.
Pushing away from the glass, you rubbed at your tired eyes. It was late and you knew you should probably get some sleep yourself now that Evie had finally fallen asleep a little while ago. But the prospect of sleeping on the cold, hard floor with nothing but a singular blanket and pillow didn't sound that appealing. You certainly weren't rushing to get to sleep yourself. 
Making your way back across the apartment, you reluctantly picked up the blanket and pillow from the ground. Carrying both of them over towards the closed door of Evelyn's bedroom, you set the pillow down. With both hands you tossed the blanket out, splaying it wide across the floor. You realized it was probably ridiculous sleeping in front of her bedroom door like this, especially because there was another bedroom, but it made you feel better. Because laying here, you knew that you were between your daughter and anyone who might come through the front door–namely one person in particular. 
Not that he even knew where you were.
Beginning to lower yourself to the floor, preparing to get some rest, movement caught your attention out of the kitchen window across the room. You stopped instantly, head spinning fully towards the window as you sat half-crouched like a startled animal. Adrenaline and fear spiked through you as your eyes caught a shadow darting across the neighboring rooftop. For a moment you could have sworn the shadow had been shaped like a person, but as you scanned the rooftop now, you didn't see anything at all.
Shaking your head, you blinked hard a couple of times as you finally sunk to the floor. You had to have been seeing things because you were overtired and on edge. That's all it was. There was no reason for someone to be running along a rooftop late at night.
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kujiba · 6 months ago
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★MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE
PART ONE/ PART TWO / PART FOUR / PART FIVE
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୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n: yay! We're finally getting into the very first arc. I might start a new series but eh, who knows. Anyway enjoy reading
୨୧ — ꒰[Tags] @resident-cryptid
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YOUR EYES COULDN'T BELIEVE IT - delicate and soft footsteps walked in the cobble flooring of the prestige city; (e/c) eyes glimmer around the stalls and towering buildings. Mondstadt definitely lives up to its titled name as the land of freedom, for every step you take, every second that passes by is surely not a quiet one infact.
One of your destined dreams turning into real life felt like bliss - you couldn't help but feel ecstatic on what the future lies ahead for you in the unordinary situation you find yourself in.
Yet.. Even for such a joyful moment, why do you feel entrapped and suffocated? You could feel eyes digging deep onto your back as it only doubled to your discomfort. You weren't supposed to feel like this, you're living your dream yet what is with this abnormal reaction? Paranoid with yourself, you quickly fled to a nearby alleyway to arrange your thoughts.
In there, you took control of your breathing, the surroundings around you begun to turn disoriented. You shook your head in disagreement "No...I must just be having a headache from the crowds" you mumbled to yourself, rubbing the sides of your head - you then continued your way in the city of Mondstadt after having calmed your thoughts and body down.
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Later on, you found yourself sitting down on one of the chairs in a food hub called "Good Hunter". You were well aware of what this place is - infact, you felt like you've done this thousands of times even if you just played through a screen.
You didn't quite expect that feeling of yours earlier, expectations didn't reach what you had thought would lead to. You were supposed to be happily strolling around mondstadt - so why are you just sitting here rearranging your thoughts again? "Agh...I'll just sit here for a bit, yeah that's alright.." Mumbling those words to yourself, you took a deep breath to calm your body down.
Eventually after about 10 minutes of sitting, you heard a small grumble from your stomach. 'Ah right, Im starving..' you suppress to yourself; sure you ate some (alot) sunsettia's earlier but that didn't seem to satisfy your stomach. Fortunately for you, the place you were resting at was a food hub!. Standing up from your seat, you made your way up to the counter to order some cuisine for that grumbling tummy of yours.
"Welcome To Good Hunter. Can I take your order?" A brunette lady with a neatly tied up ponytail on the other side of the counter question's. Her eye's lingered on the out line's of your body, taking in every detail and curve. "Uh....can I have uh.." Your voice trailed off, thinking of something to order from the menu. Until, you remembered one thing you'd always cook for your character's in game. "May I have one Sweet Madame please?" You asked, giving her a small smile.
The woman was dazed for a moment after you gave her a smile, seemingly gawking into your (e/c) pupils. It took a while till you cleared your throat "Ahem.. Is everything alright?" You questioned her, still keeping your smile but had a hint of concern.
"Oh! Uhm yes, one Sweet Madame. Please sit while I prepare your food" She hastily replied, quickly turning around she returned back to the counter furthermore fumbling around with some seasonings and kitchen knives.
You sat back down on your chair briefly leaning back on it whilst patiently awaiting for your food to arrive, your mouth just watered at the thought of eating it. And boy are you excited! Tasting many wonderful foods from your favorite games is just wonderful! A dream you wish to never leave this place...Until a realization hitted you like a truck.
You have no money here. Absolutely 0
A previous dream turned into a Nightmare; patting your pockets repeatedly you began to panic internally, you can't just take the food and dip! Well you actually can, but you definitely can't handle the consequences of it! No way you're going to already have a horrible situation just after you stepped inside the city.
So how the hell are you gonna pay without any mora!? The gods or whoever brought you here CLEARLY didn't gift you with any starter materials. You cursed In your head, thinking of ways to legally get out of the situation you were in. "Shit what do I do?! I can't just go 'oh I don't have any money because I'm from a different world and got transferred here. Heck no!" Your eyes scanned the surrounding area, looking for an idea or way to not make the situation any more complicated.
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A Honey-roasted fowl sat on your wooden table. The honey and sweet flowers come together to compliment the tender fowl meat. It's aroma as delicate and delicious as it looks. As of in the game it can restore 22% of Max HP and an additional 1,200 HP to the selected character.
A brunette maid stood by your side, a bill on her hands. Her expression looked rather concerned about you "Uhm.. Are you alright?" She asked examining your face. All that showed on you was defeat, like you've just got jumped by the opps.
"Well.. Aha.. So it might seem crazy what i'm gonna say.." You nervously chuckled, not making eye contact with the brunette and only facing the ground. Your eyes failed to notice another brunette woman walking to your table, her appearance seems similar to somebody you've previously met just moments ago..
"Heya! Mind if I sit down with you?" She politely asked, soon noticing the maid next to you she smiled slowly "I got it cover boss, I'll have one Sweet Madame too please." the brunette then took some mora from her pocket and gave it to the server, pleased by the girls payment she returned back to her stall to make another sweet madame.
Silence crept around both of you; you of course knew who she was but was to afraid to strike up a conversation. "Oh damn... What should I do?.." you pondered, avoiding any necessary eye contact with the brunnete. For her, she seemed to be doing the exact opposite of you. Her hazel pupils gazed upon parts of your physique; She seemed to be admiring your frame which made it furthermore awkward.
Clearing your throat, the brunette immediately got back into reality and looked back at you with her eyes. You gave her a small smile "Uhm well, Thank you for paying for me miss.." "AMBER." She replied back, a bit delighted to tell you her name "It's really nothing. You seem to be passing by?" she question's, you answer by giving her a nod.
"Why yes, Mondstat is one of my dream places to visit" You weren't technically lying to her, outside the screen. You did want to try and live in mondstat, just imagining it felt like paradise for you.
Amber seemed ecstatic when you mentioned how mondstadt is your dream places to visit "Why don't I give you a tour later then (Name)?" She offered to you, you were mentally so happy she offered it to you. So without hesitating you answered in a heart beat "Of course!"
Wait. Did you ever give her your name? You probably did. You just forgot
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The world happiness couldn't even describe what you were feeling right now, by your side was THE Outrider Amber of genshin impact showing you around the city. The buildings were alot taller than you had thought, but the best part was being able to see the statue of Barbatos! You felt like you were going to pass out on how unreal it felt!
But alas the tour was coming to an end. Fortunately, Amber had suggested for you to go visit the KNIGHTS OF FAVONIUS; An order responsible for protecting Mondstadt and its belief of freedom. You were of course, very cheerful by her offer! So here were the two of you. Standing in the doors of the KNIGHTS OF FAVONIUS.
"Woah.. Is it really okay for a normal person like me inside here?" you questioned her, eyes gazing at the gigantic bronze door infront of you. Amber opened her mouth to giggle "Why of course! Everyone is welcome here. Come, I'll show you inside! " Quickly opening the two doors, the inside of the building was even finer than what you've had imagined.
Polished tiles surrounded the flooring, complimenting the small plants placed upon the sides of the doors for a more appealing and modern look. Trained knights standing firm and straight with a neutral expression on their face. Still, you could vaguely see them attempting to try and catch a glimpse of you, occasionally turning their eyes to take a better view of your appearance. You did not mind one bit, since you've understood that they just might be analyzing you if you are a possible threat.
"Come! I'll show you inside one of the rooms!" Amber ushered, taking your wrist gently with one of her hands and leading you to a door. Thrusting the doors open, the surrounding room were packed with layers and layers of books, seemingly to be endless opportunities of knowledge and experience.
As you began to look over the room, your (e/c) eyes laid upon a fairly tall woman with lime green eyes and long light brown tied in a side ponytail by a hair tie with a blue rose. Her outfit is largely many shades of purple. Just by the sight of her you could tell who she was already; LISA is a librarian who works in this library, and one of the few characters you achieve for free for unlocking more experience and leveling up in the game.
Her forest green eyes gazed around the room and stopped when she had spotted you, her expression seemed to be of slight suprise but nonetheless, she composed herself and began walking up to the two with her signature smile
"Why hello there cuties, what brings you here?" She question's, stopping in her tracks following with crossing her arms around her lower chest
Amber smiled gleefully, still taking a hold of your wrist with her hand and replying to Lisa "They're a passing traveler who wanted to adventure into the city! I offered to give them a tour and they gladly accepted!" Her answer holds alot of excitement and happiness.. So much so that she's gripping onto your wrist very tightly.
You soon grew uncomfortable by her grip on your wrist, but didn't want to ruin the two women's mood and vibe, so you kept it to yourself for now. It must be because she's exceedingly happy right?
Lisa lightly laughed at the brunettes excitement "Now, now.." She took hold of Amber's hand that was holding onto your wrist and pulled it apart, her eyes not breaking eye contact with Amber "Why don't you calm yourself down, Amber?" She says giving a closed eyed smile. Amber immediately realized her actions and turned to you "...Sorry, haha. I guess i let my emotions get the better of me, I promise you I won't let it happen again" Her previous dissapointed expression shifted to one that looked more relaxed.
"Oh! Right, you must not know her right?" Amber pointed her thumb to Lisa who was standing infront of the two, her smile still plastered on her face, she cleared out her throat "Don't worry, I'll introduce myself to this cutie..my name is Lisa Minci, the librarian of the knights of favonius, I hope we get along very well." her smile was off putting at first but you brushed it off.
"Nice to meet you Ms. Lisa! My name is (Name), I'll be very happy with my time in mondstat" You extended your hand to give Lisa a handshake, to your suprise Lisa without hesitating also took your hand for a handshake. Her eyes focused on the base of your hand whilst Amber stared at you two.
You laughed awkwardly. you and Lisa shaked hands a few times before parting ways for now, you felt an ominous aura behind you once you turned your back to leave the library. You for sure wasn't going back in there for a bit.
As the two of you walked in the halls of the Knights of favonius guild, Amber stopped infront of a door. "How about we go ahead and meet the grandmaster, Jean?" She said still having a gleeful energy. You nodded, seeing no harm in meeting her. The plot won't magically change right? In here your just an NPC and the main side characters always interact with NPC's and go on with their day. Nothing can go wrong, right?.
Amber opened the doors, a small creeking sound as it slowly began to open up. Inside the room where stacked with shelves of books, in there, the back center of the room had a women in blonde dressed formal sitting down on a chair with a fairly sized table. The table had stacks and stacks of papers seemingly to be endless.
Only when amber cleared her throat did the blonde notice the two people standing near the door, she quickly composed herself and looked directly at amber, you've noticed how the blonde has not even noticed you in the room yet (you're standing right besides amber wtf).
"Good morning to you, Amber. What brings you here?" The blonde woman asked, sitting upright on her chair while awaiting the brunettes answer "Good to see you, Acting Grandmaster JEAN!" Amber replied casually, "Meet (Name)!, they' were just passing by. We sure do get loads of visitors after the Traveler(AETHER) had left to go to Liyue huh?" The brunette smiled brightly, her hand infront of you faced flat.
Jean, if not for amber she would have never even noticed your presence in the room. You on the other hand had something else in mind, 'I wonder which traveler is the one they're talking about... I'm fine with either one of the twins'
You collectively thought to yourself, a smile on your face as you could barely wait! Just meeting the MC makes your stomach get butterflies. Jean seemed to be staring at you for quite a bit, but you had not noticed once since you were daydreaming in your head.
Jean cleared her throat which made you immediately snap back to reality, raising your head slightly you made eye contact with her ocean blue pupils, she didn't look like she was going to take her eyes off you anytime soon...
".. (Name), was it?" Jean asked, leaning on her desk. Without hesitating you nodded your head "Yes, that's me.. Is there anything you want to ask?" You asked her in an awkward tone, the vibe in the room had shifted significantly. You didn't like it one bit.
She locked her eyes onto yours and smiled "No... But let me ask you one thing" The blonde stood up from her seat and slowly walked in front of her table "Where did you come from exactly?" She asked, crossing her arms on her chest. Amber also was curious to know, her hazel eyes looking at you with curiosity.. But to you, it felt like two predators were piercing their eyes onto your every limb, you felt awkward, confused, and most off all. ANXIOUS
Just one word, one word that's even remotely suspicious and it's game over for you. But why did you feel panicked and anxious? The Traveler was also a other worlder, the characters stared at him/her with adoration and kindness. Why is it the opposite for you?
A feeling wrecked your inner self, INSTINCT. Instinct told you the moment you accidentally reveal your situation is the moment your doom will begin to tower over your shadow, devouring you whole for the mistake you had made. And only then, will you escape from the pain you've brought upon yourself.
"I.. I came from.." You were lost for words, you could just tell them you lived in liyue, sumeru, Fontaine or any other region in Teyvat. So why do they stare at you with such hostile and loathing looks? You gulped down your saliva and clutched your other wrist with your hand "I traveled here from liyue.. I like to visit other regions and find more of their culture and traditions"
Your voice sounded awkward, but it was the only words you could spew out in the moment. You could still feel their gaze observing your every move and twitch, they never took their eyes off you for a long while.
As silence filled the room, Jean and Amber looked at each other for a couples of seconds and nodded, Jeans gaze on you began to soften up "I see, well then. I welcome you to mondstadt, we will be more than happy to have you here" Jean casually said having her hand on her hip as amber gleefully clapped her hands.
"Welcome To mondstadt! I'll be sure to show you only the best." Amber talked to you with such excitement and happiness. You couldn't process what was happening, since the mood had shifted to normal again. You were only relieved to have your body and mind at peace again....
! ! !
INSTINCT is an inborn impulse or motivation to action typically performed in response to specific external stimulus, ADRENALINE is a hormone secreted by the adrenal glands, especially in conditions of stress, increasing rates of blood circulation, breathing, and carbohydrate metabolism and preparing muscles for exertion.
Two things a human body does when faced with a threat around their surroundings, the human body will begin to feel such things. You felt your body beginning to rush as your heart beat began to slowly get faster, something was definitely behind you.
You turned your head quickly, but only saw a pair of black gloves reaching out to grab your face, and before you know it, you were out on the floor. Your vision began to darken at a fast pace, as all you could only do is lay motionless on the cherry colored carpet.
Two silhouettes towered over you whilst you were on the ground, holding your arms and legs, they began to drag your body on the hard ground.
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(e/c) eyes slowly began fluttering open, your pupils beginning to open once again. "Ugh... Where am I.." you groaned. Your head was throbbing like crazy, giving you migraines that just added more into the pain. Your hand trailed up to the sides of your head and began to slowly massage it to ease up the aching.
After some seconds, you had fully composed your body. The room you were in was more darker and you could barely even tell what was in your surrounding areas, only feeling the cold flooring from below you.
You attempt to try and recall what had happened but it only furthered increase the aching. You could only sigh to yourself and lean your body back on the wall, in the room you were stuck in 'So this is how I'll be spending my time. Stuck in a dark and cold room, great. ' you thought to yourself, hugging your knees closer to your chest and body to be able to create warmth.
"Just my luck.. When things were just going great another misfortune happened" talking to yourself was the only thing keeping you entertained for now, as you begin to spiral deeper into your thoughts you started to wonder, Why did I get transported here?
In your life at earth you didn't make any shocking changes to the world like making cures or any of that. You were just some person who liked to play games...
Wait
Surely enough the gods or whoever transmitted you here would be benevolent enough to gift you some kind of system or powers right? If this was not just a coincidence you might as well treat your situation like a manwha.
Clearing your throat you quietly mumbled 'System'.....And to no suprise nothing worked. "Uhh... Abrakadabra? Arise? Info?" you tried words that could possibly trigger that non existing system that you are hanging on for dear life. Maybe because of the silence around you that makes you start to go delusional and crazy.
Countless tries yet none were working (Obviously) "Man.. I knew I should've eaten more food, I'm starting to go crazy at this point.. Seriously miss the noise around. It just seems like something had turned off the sound in settings"
You groggily lowered your head down accompanying with silent murmurs coming from your mouth. Unbeknownst to you, a glowing blue screen began appearing infront of you, as you began to lift your head your (e/c) eyes began to shrink from shock as a text was plastered right in front of you.
CHOOSE AN ELEMENT! : PYRO, CRYO, DENDRO, ELECTRO, HYDRO, GEO, ANEMO
"WAIT WHAT!?"
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A/n: very sorry for the delay and how late the chapter is. Advance apologies if the chapter did not meet your expectations. School is a pain and taking most of my time.
Nonetheless Hope you enjoyed, please let me know if you want to get tagged in the next chapters.
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ericshoney · 1 month ago
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Inked ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets
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Summary: You get a tattoo dedicated to your triplet brothers.
Warnings: Possible swearing, nicknames, tattoos(?), fluff
Reader's age: 23
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You had planned this surprise out for months. Saved up so you could afford three very important tattoos. You had many tattoos, much like Nick and Matt. Chris being the only one out of your siblings not to have one, as Justin also had one.
You had a couple of matching tattoos with Nick and Matt but the ones you were about to get, were even more special. You walked into the tattoo parlour and your friend, Sammy, was prepping up.
"Hey Y/n!"
"Hey Sammy." You replied.
Sammy was the artist who did your first ever tattoo, since then, the two of you had become close friends and whenever you wanted another permanent creation, they were who you went too.
"I'll be ready in just a sec." They said.
"No problem." You said.
A few minutes went by whilst Sammy set up. When they were ready, you were called over and sat on the bed. You were getting the tattoos on your forearm.
"Do they know you're here?" Sammy questioned.
"No I lied and said I had a meeting for work. They had planned to hang out with Nate." You answered.
Nick, Matt and Chris were home in Boston, which made getting the tattoos done now more important.
"Simple but effective. I like it." Sammy responded, making you laugh.
"Alright. So I got to make sure this is right. It's a lion for Nick, a bear for Matt and a deer for Chris, right?" They asked.
"That's right. Can you also add their names under each one?" You asked, making them nod.
Sammy then got everything ready. First up was Nick's. Sammy started on the tattoo.
"Doesn't Nick have a deer too?" Sammy questioned.
"Yeah it was one of his first ones. He got a C placed near it and somewhere else on his arm there is an M." You nodded.
"That's cute really. Not only will the deer match with Nick, but also represent Chris." They responded.
You smiled and continued chatting with Sammy. Technically it was their day off but knew how much this meant to you, so came in just for you.
Five hours later, you paid and left with three brand new tattoos. You said bye to Sammy before heading home. When you walked in, you heard the triplets shouting from the kitchen, making you smile.
You walked through and saw them eating pizza, while watching videos on their phones. You smiled and hugged each of them.
"How was the meeting?" Chris asked.
"Oh about that." You began, a massive grin appearing on your face.
"What?" Matt asked.
"I lied. There was no meeting. I went and saw Sammy." You admitted.
You then showed them your arm, where the fresh tattoos sat. Nick gasped, Matt smiled and Chris cheered.
"They look amazing, sis!" Chris shouted.
"I had this planned for months. I saved up and planned the designs carefully." You replied.
"Wanna explain?" Matt asked.
"So Chris' is simple. A deer since that's your thing, you love them and it's part of your brand. It also matches with Nick's." You said first.
"It's awesome." Chris said, admiring the ink.
"Then a bear for Matt. This is because you're soft and cuddly but also protective." You continued.
"Then a lion for Nick. You're strong, protective and a leader." You finished.
The three smiled and hugged you tightly. You smiled and felt happy with their reactions.
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Tags:
@sturn-33 @lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann @mrvlxgrl @melaniesturniolo @cl1tlover3000 @lottieluhvs @lovesturni0l0s @blahbel668  @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @pancjfrjb @luvr4miya @artloo123 @n0aa @sturn-rose @ivysturnss
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queen-of-reptiles · 1 year ago
Text
𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂
description: in which lucy bronze and the england captain feel like four years is long enough to hide a relationship especially since they have just won the euros
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Lucy Bronze x female reader
this is all fiction!
warnings: fluff, a 4 year age gap and sarcastic lucy and reader
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y/n just posted
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liked by, leahwilliamsonn, mbrighty04, and 439, 222 others
tagged lionesses, lucybronze, leahwilliamsonn, Lj10, mbrighty04, bethmead_ and 18 others
y/n It's set in now. Five days later, and it has set in.
This team, these girls, this journey has been nothing short of amazing, determined and fantastic, I have been so incredibly lucky to be able to be a part of it.
Thank you England,
Thank you football,
Thank you Lionesses.
And I'll tell you what?
The kids are alright x
view 5098 comments
username1: SO EXCITED TO HAVE YOU BACK IN BARCA!!!❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙
username2: I'm crying omg 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username3: best england captain EVER ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
leahwilliamsonn: Such a sap, but the best captain we could have asked for ! ❤️
^
y/n: Couldn't have done it without my best friend/vice captain holding me up! ❤️
lucybronze: <3
^
y/n: <3
keirawalsh: I will never get over you and Sarina cutting your wedding cake ... 😭🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿
^
y/n: shoulda seen the proposal ;) 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿
stanwaygeorgia: I'm still crying at your dance moves in the locker room 😂😭
^
mbrighty04: fucking decked herself 😂😂😂
^
racheldaly3: just laid there for a sec too. 😂😂😂
^
1maryearps: "I'm okay, just tired of how life hates me" - y/n after just winning the euros 2022 and decking herself in the locker room. 😂
^
username4: HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH
jillscottjs8: Still crying even now !
^
y/n: the look on your face was worth any pain we went through! xx
alessiarusso99: Just Buzzin' ❤️
^
y/n: Buzzin man
^
ellatoone: just buzzin dude
^
alessiarusso99: hate you both sm smh! 🙄
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lucybronze just posted
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liked by, keirawalsh, marialeonn16, and 209, 218 others
lucybronze back to Barca!
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username1: ayyyyyyyy!!! VAMOS BARCA!!! ❤️💙❤️💙
username2: SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU BACK IN BLUE AND RED 💙❤️💙❤️
username3: ArE YOU DATING Y/N!!
^
username4: I think they're just friends! 🤷‍♀️
^
username5: NA they are dating! They live together!
^
username6: AND? people can live together without dating
^
username7: EYES DON'T LIE 😩
keirawalsh: lovely picture of me there, thanks!
^
lucybronze: welcome mate! 😁
y/n: that photo of me, really?
^
lucybronze: had to give the fans something to thirst over 👍
^
y/n: i hate you sm 🙄
marialeonn16: happy to have you back! ❤️💙
see more comments…
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y/n just posted on her story
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lucybronze just posted on her story
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y/n.bronze: Here is a thread of instances which confirm that Lucy and y/n are together in my mind - the bottom of the thread is where it gets good!
How Lucy looked at her during the post match interview after beating Spain??? Like, her eyes were literally heart shaped??? I want that!
When y/n was knocked over during the Sweden game and Lucy didn't even hesitate to square up, her face was so worried, and she only stopped when y/n GRABBED HER HAND?!
Ellie, in a livestream for City YESTERDAY saying that she would stay with Lucy and y/n, confirming they live together - which we already thought!
Then going on to say they have a spare room - even though Lucy has said multiple times she lives in a two bed apartment and y/n has never said anything about her 'place'!
The fact when y/n scored in the Sweden game she ran at Lucy first??? AND JUMPED ON HER
The fact y/n left ARSENAL - her childhood team - to go play for Barca only months after Lucy had and she even admitted in an interview LUCY WAS A BIG PART OF THAT DECISION
when Lucy called y/n in an interview the other day and she answered with 'hi my love???' LIKE????
THE FACT THAT THE MOST RECENT BARCA TRAINING PHOTO Y/N HAS LUCY'S TRAINING TOP ON - AND WHEN KEIRA NOTICED SHE MOVED SLIGHTLY TO PLACE HERSELF IN FRONT OF THE NUMBER SO THE CAMERA COULDN'T SEEE
^
fr I need friends that dedicated to hiding my relationship
LASTLY - the fact they went on holiday together after the euros after Ibiza, and the photos ... the PHOTOS
okay, I'm done, they're soooo dating, thank you.
^
username1: omg this is so good!
username2: ELLIE SAID WHAT?
username3: omg this is Sherlock level of deduction ability
username4: THE PHOTOS???????? IS THAT THEM
^
y/n.bronze: 'rumoured' to be - but look at the hair! It is SOOOOO y/n!
username5: nahhh Wonze for life!
^
username6: how can you read all of that and still pick the wrong answer?!
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y/n just posted on her story
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lucybronze just posted
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liked by, keirawalsh, leahwilliamsonn and 321, 111 others
lucybronze sunshine in my life, even when the sky is dark...
comments limited
alessiarusso99: her body looks so good here omg 😭😭
ellatoone: 😏😏
mbrighty04: this feels illegal omg 😳
^
racheldaly3: TELL ME ABOUT IT
y/n: 😶
leahwilliamsonn: heheh 🙂
Lj10: this is sweet :)
keirawalsh: sunshine and hair goals apparently 😚
stanwaygeorgia: hmmmm 😌
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twitter/X
y/n.bronze: OMG LUCY'S NEW POST - IS THIS CONFIRMATION???
^
username1: AND ALL THE TEAMS COMMENTS???
^
username2: the caption? the photo? the comments? the lack of tag?
^
username3: they have to be together?
^
username4: SOFT LAUNCH SOFT LAUNCH SOFT LAUNCH
y/n.bronze: THE NEW TATTOO! IT IS A STRAWBERRY ON HER SHOULDER - lucy uses the strawberry emoji allllll the time!
^
username5: it has to mean something!
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y/n just posted
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liked by, lionesses, leahwilliamsonn, and 498, 399 others
tagged lucybronze
y/n idk what you guys are on about - we're just friends ??
view all 5183 comments
lucybronze: I know right?
username1: UMMMM? 🧐🧐🧐🧐
username2: went from soft launch to MAYBE HARD LAUNCH realll quick?
username3: but like this makes me feel as if they aren't dating?! And that this is just a joke !
^
username4: yeah this feels like they are laughing at the rumours
keirawalsh: two besties, that's all I see
^
y/n: I know, how odd ! 😁
alessiarusso99: it is weird!
^
marialeonn16: I agree! So obvious!
^
ellatoone: SAME!
leahwilliamsonn: I thought it was so obvious as well.
^
lucybronze: People loveeeee to talk ig 🤷‍♀️
username5: I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE 🥲
y/n.bronze: okay, this has thrown even me off I won't lie!
^
username5: maybe we were wrong?
^
y/n.bronze: I really didn't think so tho ...
alexiaputellas: clearly just amigas 🤷‍♀️
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lucybronze just posted
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liked by alexiaputellas, mbrighty04, and 207, 388 others
tagged y/n
lucy.bronze Happy four years 'best friend' ;) xx
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y/n just posted
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liked by, keirawalsh, leahwilliamsonn and 409, 281 others
tagged lucybronze
y/n Four years of the best 'friendship' I could have asked for xox
comments disabled
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twitter/X
y/n.bronze: FUCK ALL OF YOU - I WAS RIGHT
^
username1: 4 years ... 4 goddamn years
^
y/n.bronze: I KNEW IT - I FUCKING KNEW IT !
^
y/n: that you did :)
^
y/n.bronze: omg
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END
okay really did enjoy this one - (hope this is what the anon wanted) the amount of Lucy Bronze content and fics I have queued is kinda worrying but I have been a fan of Lucy since she played for SUNDERLAND
which is insane that's a bit too long really
my gay ass
but I am a die hard West Ham Fan and a Sunderland fan (due to my best friend WEST HAM TIL I DIE FORST AND FUCKING FOREMOST) - I know, it is hard - so it is insane how long I have been a fan of her but I reallyyyyy enjoyed writing this and I enjoy writing these actually.
When I originally started drafting these they were just for myself and when I posted LJ's I thought no one would really see it - so to have people be so kind and so happy to request has really made my smile!
So thank you for your support! And more incoming!
Love
Queenie xo
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719 notes · View notes
theealbatross · 6 months ago
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Sebastian x Reader: come one, come all (One Shot)
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Plot | Five years after graduating, two kindred spirits are finally getting married and their friends reminisce on their brilliant histories.
or, Lucas Brattleby interviews their friends on their memories and opinions of the future Mr. and Mrs. Sallow as a little gift for the couple.
Tags | None, fluff, overuse of the name Merlin, mentions of slight torture (hexes), lowkey bullying, lowkey codependency if you squint, obsessive behavior (but it's okay cause theyre in love), cursing, Lucas lowkey has a crush on Sebastian lol
[A/N: A line from this story is not made by me, "I would follow him to hell but I wish he wouldn't go there" so to whoever wrote that first just know your quote is the inspiration for this story!!]
“What is this again?”
The brat, Lucas Brattleby, had grown obscenely taller the last time Imelda had seen him, which was about 3 years ago when he was a rookie reporter covering her latest game. She heard he is now a publisher in his own right but didn’t seem to brush off that annoying lint in his voice back when he was still a Gryffindor matching illegal unsanctioned duels in the Clock Tower.
“A small gift of mine for the couple,” he grinned (still as irritating, she’s seen that grin enough times before she got her ass handed to her so forgive her for not being enamored), pushing the pen (recorder?) to her that she reflexively pushed him by his face. “Sorry.”
“And why should I do this?”
“Oh come on, Imelda. It’s just harmless questions to take us back down memory lane. It’ll be played at the reception and I promise I’ll send you everything before I finalize it just so you can make sure –”
“Alright!” She stopped walking, rolling her eyes when Lucas quickly assembled his camera, even quickly conjuring a chair and putting it at the center of the frame. Clearly, he knew she could change her mind at any moment.
“My lady,” he bowed dramatically, pointing a palm to the seat.
“Don’t call me that. You have 10 minutes before warm-ups start.” Lucas raised both of his hands in the air before quickly running behind the camera and clicking the button to start recording.
“I’ll be out of here in 5.” Lucas flipped a paper in front of him. “Let’s start with your name, a little something about yourself and where did you meet them.”
She took a deep breath, putting on the poker face she usually plasters on her face when talking to the media before her many games instinctively. “Imelda Reyes, Vice-Captain of Puddlemere United, and I had the misfortune of being in the same boat as Sebastian Sallow during our first year. She, however, was a little late to the party and wreaked havoc on my life when I was a fifth year.”
Lucas was meticulously writing notes in his fancy notebook.
“What’s the fondest memory you have of the couple?”
She scoffed, not even needing to think about it. “Sebastian? Definitely when he caught a bludger … with his face.” The memory of the cry he emitted pulled a real smile on Imelda’s face. “We almost lost and I would’ve killed him for it but oh was it glorious.”
He remembers this game.
“Didn’t he fall off his broom midair?”
Imelda waved a nonchalant hand in front of her face. “That girlfriend of his caught him with an Arresto Momentum so no harm done – well, except the crooked nose he sported for a week.”
Lucas chuckled with her, “And for the future Mrs. Sallow?”
“Nothing much, most conversation we’ve had was her beating me – beating me in a race, beating me in a duel, Merlin, she even beat me with the class ranking on her first year in Hogwarts. I had a five-year head start how was that possible?!”
Lucas smiled, reading that as bitter her words were she truly held no grudge over it. He was caught off guard, however, when Imelda suddenly had a small, serene smile on her face, her voice when she spoke softer. “She was … it was like I was always chasing after her. We all were, Sebastian always first in the race but … it was fun. I had fun. She made Hogwarts fun. A true competition, yknow? Didn’t have much at that point in my life.”
“Competition?”
“A friend.”
Lucas couldn’t help but be surprised – not everyone can be considered as Imelda Reyes’ friend as picky as she is, though he quickly fixed his face when she shot him a look that told him not to probe. “Did you ever think they would both get married?”
Imelda scoffed out a laugh, crossing her arms. “I knew the only way they wouldn’t get married is if Sallow got assassinated by one of her many admirers and even then I wouldn’t put it past him to somehow turn into an Inferi just so he can still be the one to marry her. I’m honestly surprised he held on for this long, pretty sure he would’ve popped the question the moment we graduated.”
“Technically, he did. They just decided to get married this year.”
That one made her laugh out loud, shaking her head at her old friend’s antics. Of course, she knew those two would get married, basically tied to the hip, always getting in and out of trouble with each other and for each other. Bloody hell, they’d been married since fifth-year and just didn’t know it.
“Typical Sallow,” she caught herself. “Well, Sallows now, Merlin help us all.”
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Lucas rechecked everything on his notes, making sure to mark any and all important details of the words his enchanted pen has written for him as he spoke with his former Senior, Garreth Weasley, who was once a thorn on the side of Professor Sharp but was now a renowned Potions Master actively getting scouted by Hogwarts, his blends sought upon by the most respectable wizards and witches all over the world.
“Did I think they would get married? Mate, Sebastian almost bit my head off when I tried to ask her if she would like to be partners for one potion class. One! And we were sitting next to each other! I’m sorry if I thought I was being friendly?!”
Lucas has heard and has unfortunately been a victim of Sebastian’s … tendencies. You, despite being the top duelist in Hogwarts was always, more often than not, partnered with Sebastian in every duel. The one time Lucas had agreed in a quiet solo duel without letting Sebastian know his senior had caught him on his way to his potion's class and nailed him to the wall by his cloak while threatening him to never let it happen again or he will turn him into a pretty outline in the walls of Hogwarts with Bombarda.
He thinks that was the closest thing he had been to peeing his pants.
“Yeah, Sebastian doesn’t have the best track record with friendly males around his girlfriend.”
“They weren’t even courting by then how would I bloody know that –”
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“Ready, Poppy?”
Surprisingly, the sweet woman in front of him has been the most difficult to track down. Amongst their mutual friends she was the one he had no idea where to start, especially after his only lead, her grandmother, had no other information to give him aside that the last she heard Sweet Poppy was down South Clagmar Coast ‘doing Merlin knows what’.
Thankfully, the citizens of Cragcroft were a bit more helpful and he was able to send her an owl about his little project.
“Where should we start?”
Lucas made sure she was framed perfectly in the shot before nodding to himself. “Nothing complicated Poppy, just first impressions or any memory you have of the young couple.”
She pursed her lips in thought, nodding to herself, “The two of them have always been terrifyingly intimidating, especially for someone like me. Seemed to just attract attention and trouble on their own – I mean, killing a troll in Hogsmeade on the first day – just a bunch of troublemakers they were. Brilliant troublemakers – which only made them scarier in my eyes.”
Lucas nodded in total agreement but he couldn’t help but squint at her.
“You aren’t exactly innocent, Ms. Hid-a-Hippogriff.”
Her eyes widened, blushing at the accusation. “In my defense, future Mrs. Sallow helped me take care of Highwing.”
Poppy recounted the memories with a smile on her face.  Her dainty smile grew bigger as she recapped happy memories she had with her classmates.
“But they’ve always been lovely. Lovely people and an even lovelier couple. Sebastian has always been bright and charming and surprisingly kind for a Slytherin and she … she’s always been unapologetic of who she was. It also meant she never judged anybody for who they are either.”
The woman paused, the smile on her face remained frozen as if she was in deep reflection.
“A true friend – one of the truest I had.”
Lucas was never in their circle, hell, aside from each other and maybe Ominis nobody was truly ever in their innermost circle despite their popularity. At every explosive trouble the two were always caught in he couldn’t help but wonder just what they get up to when they weren’t caught. Even back then he knew he would’ve risked his life and followed them no question asked if it meant his young self got to go to one of their death-defying adventures with them.
But being two years younger was a barrier he could never overcome.
It is refreshing to hear of stories from their friend’s perspective and not in passing in the Central Hall in Hogwarts where it’s all half-true, fabricated, or painfully hyperbolic. Maybe that’s why he had thought to do this, a reporter’s disease of needing to know the truth, the dark side of the coin they hid with their secrets and anonymities passed only in hushed whispers and clandestine meetings with each other.
“Are you excited about the wedding?”
Poppy nodded eagerly. “Oh, I’m extremely happy for my friends! It’s not every day two souls find each other and just not let go. I’m glad they didn’t. After all they’ve been through, they deserve to have each other.”
He couldn’t have agreed more.
“That they do.”
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Mr. Lucas Brattleby,
I have received your owl, unfortunately, I will not be able to go back there till the night before the wedding as I still have a business to wrap up here in America. For the questions you sent, I shall send this Howler and you may record it.
I have nothing good to say about Mr. Sebastian Sallow, that boy had done nothing but torment me in my youth. It’s a bloody miracle he had managed to snag the Hero of Hogwarts as his girlfriend – terrible lack of judgment on her part I must say, we all have our flaws – much less agree to be his wife. If there’s one good thing he did do, it was willingly become a lowly servant to such a lovely witch. Least he could do, really.
However, despite their blatant differences and unfortunate similarities I, for one, knew immediately that not even Death could sever such a connection – not if Sebastian Sallow had anything to say about it, and trust me I speak from experience. They’ve fought through detentions, goblins, dark wizards, and a damned troll – I’m sure marriage will be a breeze in a park.
Well, if I’m wrong, then let the future Mrs. Sallow know I would be more than willing to offer a comforting shoulder.
Leander Prewitt Department of International Magical Cooperation
PS. To my darling wife Leonora, light of my life, the last part was a joke and If I somehow disappear it was Sebastian Sallow who did it.
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“They give Sebastian too much credit when my dear friend was equally as obsessed about him. Do you remember Allia?”
Lucas snapped his fingers when he finally put a face to the name he hadn’t heard in a while but made sure to look around lest one of the younger students managed to hear such … delicate matters in the DADA classroom. “Didn’t she transfer during your 6th year? Something about personal … complications?”
Natty laughed out loud, doubling over with tears in her eyes. “Oh, that excuse was all thanks to Ominis swinging around his name. Our dear witch hexed poor Allia while she was asleep for trying to poison Sebastian with Amortentia! Sneaked straight into the Ravenclaw tower and cursed her to grow the features of a rat every time she even thought about Sebastian! The only way Ominis could convince our friend to take back the curse and avoid expulsion was at the condition of her transferring and never letting the couple see even her shadow again.”
He never even noticed that his jaw was hanging off his face.
“Oh, if everyone only knew that fights I had prevented if a Junior so much as fluttered their lashes at Sebastian,” she shook her head, still laughing to herself.
Now all the pieces he hadn’t realized were part of the same puzzle clicked on his head. The flat smile on her face that never quite reached her eyes every time they were surrounded by strangers, the grip she always held on Sebastian’s arms no matter where they were going, the ‘promise ring’ Sebastian also wore when traditionally it was just the girl who had it, and the absolute absence of Sebastian’s name when girls talked about boys they fancied in the common room when he was undoubtedly better looking than most students in Hogwarts.
“A jealous witch she was, thinks she’s good at hiding it,” Natty chuckled.
Lucas realized in horror that she had scared off the entire female student body.
“But by the gods was she better at hexes.”
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When Lucas had heard that Ominis Gaunt had been working closely with the Minister for Magic and was undoubtedly being groomed to be his successor, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Everyone knew he would be someone important someday so Lucas had damn near lost all hope as he sent an owl to the man.
When he received a reply in a fortnight brought by a regal-looking owl, Lucas thought he must have some soft spot for his fellow alumni. But it would seem the man just had a lot to let out of his chest.
“Oh, the stories I could tell! If I had a knut for every time I had to rescue one of those idiots out of a horrific situation they found themselves in I would be richer than the Blacks!”
He’d never seen his hair this undone in the 7 years they had been on the same campus. Maybe Lucas was just that good of a journalist or maybe it was the half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey that was the reason for his loose lips.
“I mean, Sebastian was bad enough, but once he found someone who would willingly dive with him to whatever dangerous expeditions he found interest in and I was outnumbered it was a bloody nightmare.”
For the first time in his life, he felt pity for the man. It was never really a secret why Sebastian didn’t serve half the detention he deserved nor why neither of them had ever been expelled when a trail of evidence led to the both of them red-handed and always at the scene of the crime. But he has to give it to Ominis … a lesser man would’ve cracked at their mischiefs.
“And Sebastian … everybody knows he would’ve willing let himself be target practice for all sorts of curses if she had asked.”
Lucas can’t even defend his childhood hero. Especially, of the things he had learned from his previous subjects. It would seem even the mightiest of men would always buckle in the face of their true love.
“I-I’m sure they’ve done the same for you,” Lucas winced.
“Oh, they better, with the flaming hoops I had to jump through to make sure we graduated alive,” Ominis waved him off indifferently. “They are my best friends. I would follow them to hell but I just wish they would stop going there for one damn semester.”
Lucas snickered, unfortunately unable to hold it in with just how stressed the memory of the mischiefs his favorite couple got up to has brought Ominis. He was sure the older man would choke him but he just sighed out a laugh until the two of them were laughing to each other.
“I guess they have always been the perfect person for each other.”
Ominis nodded, leaning his head on his fist. “Yeah …”
He threw Lucas a look.
“Do you think they won’t make me their children’s godfather if I begged?”
Lucas bit his lips. “My money is on the eldest getting named after you so …”
Ominis groaned.
Lucas refilled his glass.
338 notes · View notes
reverieblondie · 11 months ago
Text
Be Sweet to Me
Chapter 1
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader
Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs
Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.
A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!
Word count: 3,447
Part 2
“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.” 
Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.
“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation. 
Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool. 
Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara. 
He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.” 
One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.  
Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two… 
Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.  
Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success! 
Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps. 
Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!
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Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character. 
Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to. 
The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.
First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.
Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.  
Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards 
For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…
The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made. 
Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again. 
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Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria. 
“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…
Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal. 
Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question. 
“I’m sorry what?” 
Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?” 
“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?” 
Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”
Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.” 
“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.
“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”
“And probably insulting you in some way,” 
“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…
“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.
“Oh, and he is always being rude!” 
“God, how can you work with that monster!” 
With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process. 
“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…” 
With that, your lunch break was over. 
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“Spider-Man!” 
“You saved us!” 
“He’s a hero!”
“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”
“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”
“I thought she punched him?” 
Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over. 
How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…
Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap, 
“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”  
The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on. 
Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…
Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was. 
“Jerk!” 
“Boo!” 
“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job. 
Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…
Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.
Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him. 
Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway. 
 “How can you work with that monster!”
Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…
Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,
“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”
“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others. 
Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…
Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed. 
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It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?
 Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.
Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.
Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible. 
“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time. 
“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…
Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that” 
Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.” 
Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.
“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you” 
With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.  
“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier? 
The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.” 
Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly. 
Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it. 
Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again. 
“I want us to be friends, simple” 
Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him. 
“You got this Miguel, good luck.” 
492 notes · View notes
holllandtrash · 1 year ago
Text
gone | daniel ricciardo
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)
I just know You're not gone You can't be gone
The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.
word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff
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“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” 
You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.” 
Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team. 
So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone. 
And you both knew the answer to that one. 
That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference. 
“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”
“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”
The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media. 
When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.
“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”
He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”
Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.
Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.
He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time. 
Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well. 
You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago. 
“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.
The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.
Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”
You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”
You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.
“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”
You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”
You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.
“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”
“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.
“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.
“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction. 
For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.
But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.
You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you. 
“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”
“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.
But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you. 
It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.
You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.
Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.
Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at. 
You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.
“And Y/N, onto you-”
You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.
“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”
You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”
Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”
You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.
But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.
“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.
Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”
You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.
But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”
Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”
You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up. 
You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room. 
Unfortunately, so did Daniel.
He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”
Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”
Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”
You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”
It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.
The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.
What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap. 
But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage. 
“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”
Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2. 
You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.
Serves him right, you thought. 
God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind. 
Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.
Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.
“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening. 
Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him. 
“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him. 
“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time. 
“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”
“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”
“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”
You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it. 
Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart. 
“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”
You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.
Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.
The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.
Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1. 
Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.
Of course he didn’t, though. 
Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud. 
That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.
You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.
But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri. 
You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades. 
When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season. 
Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel. 
Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.
It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done. 
Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel. 
You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were. 
Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case. 
And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do. 
You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.
The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.
You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire. 
You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you. 
Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him. 
But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.
“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset. 
“Plan F.”
Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.
“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.
“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”
From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position. 
Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight. 
Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind. 
You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come. 
You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust. 
You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors. 
He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.
Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.
Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.
You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme. 
You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.
The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.
There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.
It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications. 
You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.
It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.
Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.
The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.
But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours. 
This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.
Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?
Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought. 
The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to. 
You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you. 
That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.
Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt. 
You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with. 
“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.
“I need to,” you answered. 
“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service. 
It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.
Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you. 
The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol. 
He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.
Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver. 
You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.
“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners. 
“Get what?”
You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved. 
Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.
“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought. 
When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.
“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”
You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete. 
You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel. 
Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.
It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.
When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.
But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it. 
You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.
Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap. 
Why did he follow you?
This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver. 
The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was. 
You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.
But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case. 
You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.
Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything. 
“Checo’s gone after this year.”
You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”
“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”
You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024. 
But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened. 
And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?
You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”
“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”
The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face. 
But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue. 
“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out. 
The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together. 
Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.
You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?
“You’re not mad?” He asked.
The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.
“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible. 
“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid. 
“Enraged,” you said.
“Enraged,” he repeated.
“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you. 
You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.
You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around. 
“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”
“I want to talk.”
“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”
There it was.
“I knew you were mad.”
“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”
You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.
“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage. 
“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.
“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”
You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.
But he didn’t go anywhere. 
And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.
“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.
“No, but I loved you.” 
You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.
“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”
All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”
“We could have had both.”
Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1. 
Clearly not.
“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you. 
Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.
“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.
It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.
He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.
And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior. 
The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024. 
The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.
And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.
His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.
No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium. 
You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.
Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.
People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.
You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.
Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence. 
This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.
But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.
You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.
You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.
How could the world move on if you hadn’t?
Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.
You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.
He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.
You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.
Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night. 
At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone. 
Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” 
Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.” 
Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back. 
You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.
There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore. 
You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.
“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”
You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.
“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”
Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”
You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”
Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you. 
Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove. 
That was a move you had to live with. 
“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this. 
“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”
We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.
Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall. 
“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded. 
You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.
“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”
You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.
You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore. 
And you couldn’t hold onto it either.
As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.
You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.
You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.
Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.
Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship. 
But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.
You had to look away.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him. 
Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
You were supposed to be in love. 
And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan. 
But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.
You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.
__________________
is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?
taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora
for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions
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pray4saint · 1 year ago
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Daughter!reader meeting Sirius in Azkaban for the first time ever. Bonus points if Remus tags along because as her godfather he’s protective.
seeing dad!sirius in azkaban for the first time
masterlist & descrip. pg-13. 13+. angst. comfort. semi-implied wolfstar. caretaker!remus. uncle/dad figure!remus.
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”you know we don't have to go sunshine, he'll be alright.” you twiddled your thumbs, taking a deep breath as remus tried for the fourth time in twenty minutes to reassure you.
it'd been almost a year since you'd seen your father and you'd been in remus' care, and despite how unsure you were that remus had forgiven him for what happened, he'd insisted that anytime you wanted to see your dad you could.
”i want to see him.” remus raised a brow at you. ”i need to see him, please rem.” it was more than you wanted to say but the entire time sirius black had been locked up you had never mentioned missing your father. of course remus knew better, anyone who had a dad like sirius would miss him, which is why it was so hard to believe what he'd done.
remus turned away from you, hand on your shoulder, nodding to the gaurd. the gaurd opened the door and you walked through, remus trailing closely behind you.
the room you entered was dark, a couple of gaurds around, a few dimly lit candles here and there, the strong stench of people rotting, and standing up at a table about fifteen feet from you, sirius black. he looked like he had lost some weight, that much was obvious. as you got closer though, you could see the bags under his eyes, the new wrinkles that had appeared around his eyes and forehead, now his smile was weak and he looked unwell.
from across the table, despite how horrible weak he looked, his eyes still glimmered when he looked at you, full of love. ”hi sunshine.” even his voice was different, more hoarse, drier. ”hi dad.” you both sat down and remus pulled up a chair close to you. ”hi remus.” your father gave the man beside you a crooked grin however he wasn't met with a verbal response, only a nod and low grunt of recognition.
in a matter of minutes, talking about how school was going, watching your father listen with such intent and interest, it took everything in you not to cry. he genuinely looked so happy to see you and a little part of you wished you'd come to see him sooner, but then again it felt like a huge favour to ask of remus.
”is anything else going on?” sirius smiled at you, his hand nervously playing with the rest of his fingers. ”no, not really. but i do miss you dad.” you slowly reached your hand out, palm up, looking around at the gaurds. sirius' hand was shaky as it reached for yours. once his hand was in yours, you squeezed, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes when he squeezed back. ”i miss you more sunshine.” his smile looks more genuine, bigger, as if he's finally been set free.
remus taps your shoulder. ”y/n we've gotta get goin' pumpkin.” he whispers the words, and you turn to him. he can see how the tears threaten to leave your eyes, your cheeks already pink. you don't even get a chance to respond before he speaks again. ”i can give you a few more minutes, but really, we've got to get home. marls is bringing soup for dinner, remember?” you nod and he smiles at you.
”five minutes.” one of the gaurds behind you gives the warning and all of a sudden you're aware of the time. you wipe at your eyes, ”fuck, dad i need more time.” he kisses your hand, ”i know princess.”
”can i have a hug dad?” the words, almost breathless, cause your father's eyes to brighten and all of a sudden he's up and walking around the table to you, kneeling down so he can wrap his arms around you. with your head in his neck, you finally let the tears fall, as does he. ”i love you so much sunshine.” you only sob harder against his hair and he squeezes you closer to his chest. ”you've gotta go now.” he pulls away, wiping away at your tears while you wipe at his.
hesitantly, you let go, trying to pull your remaining tears back into your eyes. ”i love you dad.” he nods at you with a smile, the same weak smile he had at the start of the visit. you turn around in your seat and nod to remus.
on your way out of the room, remus stopped you and turned back to your father. ”you know,” sirius' head snaps up to remus and you give him a confused look. ”it was good to see you pads.”
”you too moons.” you smile, although the origin of the nicknames is just as lost on you as it always has been.
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pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.
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